


Against a Sure Winter

by Gammarad



Category: The Goblin Emperor - Katherine Addison
Genre: Canon Character Deaths (Wisdom of Choharo Crash), Canon Typical Sexism and Fantasy Racism, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-25 04:48:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21810340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gammarad/pseuds/Gammarad
Summary: When the opportunity arose to become one of the four ceremonial bodyguards for the new Emperor, Cala Athmaza volunteered. He didn't fully realize what he was letting himself in for, but he knew in his heart he had made the right choice.
Relationships: Cala Athmaza & Maia Drazhar
Comments: 21
Kudos: 181
Collections: Yuletide 2019





	Against a Sure Winter

**Author's Note:**

  * For [faradheia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/faradheia/gifts).



> Title is from _Winter Trees_ by William Carlos Williams.
> 
> Thank you to farevenasdecidedtouse for beta reading.

Cala woke up to a sense of something missing. He had felt it the night before -- during the evening meal, while he read in his room, as he prepared for sleep -- but been too busy to puzzle out what it was that he had lost. 

In the stillness of the morning, the answer came to him like a dream remembered, vague but sure: the training bond with his teacher, Omaru, was gone. Omaru who was the maza half of the second nohecharei of Varenechibel IV Zhas. 

Cala had half expected this piece of bad news. The court had been buzzing with something dire, and an attempt on the Emperor's life, one that had killed at least one of his bodyguards, would explain it. More than that -- from the moment Omaru had left teaching to take on the responsibility of being a nohecharis, Cala had prepared himself to learn of Omaru's death.

It surprised him how bereft he still was at the loss. The bond, so strong when he was younger, had stretched to nearly nothing as he first became full-fledged maza, a bearer of the Athmaza surname rather than the name of the family he had been born into, and then dachenmaza, a recognized master of the discipline. 

On that first day he had entered the Untheileneise Court to apply to the school where advanced magic was taught, he had not expected he would climb so far up the Ladder. The Athmaz'are accepted any young person who could demonstrate the complete basic mastery: to produce water, fire, force, move stone, and the spirit aura. If a student could do at least two, he might be considered. 

Even girls were accepted if they could pass all five of the tests. Untrained power was dangerous. But few girls could, as the young talented girls were rarely given basic mazeise education in their homes, while any talented boy was nearly always given the opportunity. Still, there were several women mazei, and even a few women dachenmazei. Some of the less responsible boys called them the three witches, after a fable from the barbarian north, of the old woman, the motherly woman and the virginal one, because one was an elderly lady, another married with two young children and one on the way, and the third was a cleric of Csaivo, sworn to celibacy. 

Cala, while famous for his absentmindedness among a whole calling known for it, was considered responsible because he would never indulge himself or anyone else in such name calling. He commanded respect and that was, along with his persistent lack of interest in courting or starting a family, the reason the Adremaza had appointed him to supervise the instruction of novices. This responsibility took most of the time he had to spare from his studies. 

The subject of Cala's most intensive study was the intricate pattern of wards that permeated the Untheileneise Court. The wards of the Mazan’theileian ended at Usharsu's Ladder, the bridge that connected the Mazan’theileian to the Court proper, and on the other side of the ornate stonework of the Ladder the protections of the Court took over. The wards prevented any maza from using most forms of magic. Though like all wards, it was possible to overpower them, they were likely to rebound to the extreme detriment of any who violated their protection. 

The wards of the Mazan'theileian surrounded Cala as he made his way to the office of the Adremaza. At this time of day, Sehalis was likeliest to be in his office, dealing with administrative duties. Though it would make Cala late to his class of students, at this point halfway through their first year of advanced studies they could be expected to deal with his late arrival. 

Sehalis's aide Desharet met Cala in the anteroom of the Adremaza's office.

"The Adremaza is meeting with --" Desharet began.

"How terrible," Cala heard Sehalis say from inside the office. The answer from another person within was too quiet for him to make out.

"There is a death we must report to the Adremaza," Cala said quietly. 

Not quietly enough, perhaps, because the Adremaza called, "Send him in, Desharet."

Desharet assented with a visible deflation. 

Leilis, who tutored Prince Idra along with his other duties, a scholar as well as a maza, was the person whose voice Cala had not been able to make out. 

"There have been deaths," Sehalis said. "Leilis was informed along with Prince Idra's household of the crash of the _Wisdom of Choharo_ with the Emperor and his three sons aboard."

Cala froze. He had not thought so far. "We came because we sensed Omaru had died," he said.

"The Emperor and his heir and all the nohecharei are lost. Everyone who was aboard." Leilis looked exhausted. "Suler has her hands full with Prince Nemolis's children. I had—" and his voice, which had been soft, stopped entirely. 

Cala put his hand on Leilis's shoulder. "You will be a support for them, we are sure."

Leilis nodded. It seemed Cala's touch had helped, which Cala had hoped for. Such gestures helped youngsters he tended. "We will return to them. Thank you." He departed.

"Which of our dachenmazei," Sehalis said softly, "should we ask to take on the burden of being nohecharis to our new emperor? He is young. Eighteen, and has never been at court. An unknown quantity."

"Us," Cala said. The word slipped from his mouth with a feeling of rightness, as though the past three years of teaching mazei novices had led him to this inevitably, though of course neither he nor anyone else had expected such an eventuality. "We should be his nohecharis." He felt strangely light, and only with effort kept the smile off his face that wanted to be there. 

The Adremaza looked at Cala intently. "You would be ideal, Cala Athmaza. Are you certain you wish to make such a commitment? To leave your students and your studies?"

"It is peculiar, don't you think? Yes, we are certain, Adremaza."

"We accept your word." Sehalis strode to the front of his office. "Desharet. Go to Cala Athmaza's novice class and inform them he will not be there today. Instruct them yourself for an hour, then send them to luncheon and find another class to combine them for the afternoon."

Desharet departed on his mission.

Behind himself, Sethalis closed the doors of his anteroom and then of his office carefully. "Take today to think on this," he said to Cala. "Return in the morning and --" 

A second year novice knocked on the closed door of the anteroom. He had been part of Vano's class in the previous year, Cala remembered. He was surprised when the novice opened the door without waiting for a response to his knock. "Adremaza, a man has arrived from the Court. He says the Emperor is here and you must send him a nohecharis." The voice was frantic with confusion and worry. 

"Let us go speak with him," Cala suggested. 

"He did not stay, only stated his message and departed. He had to bring Captain Orthema the same message, he said."

The Adremaza frowned. The day he had clearly hoped to leave Cala to think was no longer a possibility. "If you are to take on this responsibility immediately, Cala, there are some secrets we must entrust to you." The Adremaza proceeded to instruct Cala on a good many points. Most revealingly to Cala, the wards of the Untheileneise Court had included a special dispensation for nohecharei to use magic within their limits. The means of doing so were, Sehalis told Cala, known only to the Adremaza, his second, and the mazeise nohecharei themselves. 

"You are required to spiritually and by means of mazeise skill protect the emperor," the Adremaza said, "and we expect you will do so without fail. Not because your life would be forfeit in case of failure. Although we know it is." 

Cala felt a frisson of fear, but not for his life. It was bracing, not chilling. He was sure everything would be fine. Though most of his waking hours would now be spent protecting the emperor, he would still have time, both during those hours of protection and between them, to continue his studies, he felt certain. 

"Do you have any concerns or second thoughts?" Sehalis wound his fingers together in front of him. "Or perhaps suggestions about who we might look to for your second?" 

There were not many potential candidates. "Denra or Dazhis, it would have to be. Or Mishemis, but it would be difficult at his age." Mishemis was not in especially good physical shape, and nearer sixty than fifty. His mazeise skill was unquestionably up to the task, but his stamina probably was not. 

There were a few more thoughts Sehalis felt he must share with Cala before allowing him to take up his post. But as soon as he was permitted, Cala went to meet his new charge. His new Emperor. 

As he walked, Cala assembled what little he knew of the Emperor's youngest son, Maia. That he was half-goblin, everyone knew that. He had been living at a distant estate of the Emperor's his entire life. He was eighteen. The fact that he had not been brought to be introduced at court on his sixteenth birthday, on the achievement of his adulthood, had led many at court to speculate on the topic of what made him unpresentable. Was he mentally deficient, they speculated, or insane? Had his education been so neglected that he would have embarrassed the Drazhar family and, most of all, his very proper father? Or was it some physical defect, a monstrosity of birth? The last was ruled out by many of those who recalled the brief glimpse of the young prince at his mother's funeral. He had looked ordinary, like any goblin-blooded servant boy, it was said. 

Cala had not noticed the youngest prince at that funeral. He had been a first year novice, not paying much attention to the boring and overly long rites on behalf of an Empress he had never seen, since she had been relegated when he was still a young child. Now that omission fretted him. Well, he thought, he would see the new Emperor very soon. 

It had not really hit Cala that the Emperor was dead. It seemed, somehow, that he was merely still away on a state visit, as he often was, and his death on the return trip seemed unreal. 

He walked into the Alcethmeret later than he had hoped. He had remembered after leaving the Mazan’theileian that he would require a baldric with the Drazhadeise seal, and of course he did not have one. A side trip to borrow one from the Untheileneise Guard had taken time and, despite having been notified first, he did not arrive until after the other nohecharis, sent by Captain Orthema, had already introduced himself. 

His first impression of his new Emperor was that he seemed entirely ordinary and not deficient in any way. Young, certainly, and dark complexioned, which was not what one expected in an Emperor, but he seemed composed, well spoken and polite. 

Then the courier came in and the Emperor looked for a moment like a lost child spotting a familiar face. It really was meant to be, Cala thought. The new Emperor was like a novice maza, brave and probably competent enough at what he had learned so far, but still young and thrown into a world where he did not know how to begin.

There had been a boy who looked a lot like the Emperor in Cala's novice class two years before. The other nine novices had been polite to him, at least when Cala was around -- he had no illusions that young mazei were as well behaved when unsupervised by their teacher, but he had thought, hoped at least, that the example he had set would be the one they would follow.

There had been girls in that year's novitiate, but all four of them had been in the class taken by the motherly dachenmaza who was the senior teacher of novices. Sehalis had felt, when Cala inquired, that girls learned better when taught by a woman and also when they were not the only girl in the class. 

"What then of Vimer, Adremaza?" Cala had asked.

"He is not a girl," Sehalis had said, not understanding.

"He is the only one like him, though. Are you not concerned for him?"

"We are, Cala, but there is little that can be done. Goblin-blooded novices are rare to begin with and they do not do well."

"We had wondered why there were no mazei with any goblin ancestry," Cala said. He had not, in fact, wondered this at all until he was given Vimer Coramezh to teach. 

"The goblins have no mazeise tradition and the gift does not run in their lineages." Sehalis shrugged. "Vimer's father was maza. So the order paid for his training, and we accepted his candidacy, but we have little hope for his eventual success."

Cala had not been willing to argue the point with the Adremaza, but he had already seen that young Vimer was talented, especially at spells affecting plants and animals. He had gone away and begun to research the question as best he could.

What he found made him unhappy. There had been a few mazei with goblin ancestry, but they had all died very young, the majority in violent ways. Only one girl and she had died in childbirth, one in a rare case of a maz rebounding on its caster, and the last had drowned himself. What a terrible thing. Cala closed the record book he had been consulting when he read that last sad piece of information written so matter-of-factly and felt close to tears.

He had been desperate not to let any of these things happen to Vimer. In the end, he had been successful at that, if nothing else. Vimer had of his own volition decided to leave the Athmaz'are and go home, take up some trade and rejoin his mother. He had told Cala that the reason was that his mother needed his help and the income he could provide. 

Cala did not think that was all of it. If she had become penniless, the Adremaza should send an allowance, as his office provided for all dependents of mazei when necessary. That was what was supposed to happen, since maza took oaths of poverty and could not themselves provide for their families. He was not, though, at that time, entirely sure that Vimer had been wrong.

All this had been perhaps at the back of Cala's instant decision in the moment to take on the responsibility of a nohecharis. An emperor who was half goblin would change ways that had been long ingrained in the Court, and he would, if he could, ensure that the change extended all the way into the Athmaz'are.

Cala followed the Archprelate back up the long circular staircase from the vigil chapel. He looked down, barely able to see light below. There were no windows in the vigil chapel or on the staircase that led to it. When they arrived back in the hallway outside the Alcethmeret, he started back toward it, toward the Emperor's residence, then stopped himself. 

His partner still stood just at this side of the pilaster bridge. "We should stand guard here," Beshelar said. "At the entrance." It was the responsibility of the nohecharei, after all.

The Archprelate closed the way behind the Lieutenant, the pilaster sliding up into place as if it had never moved. It was not clockwork. It was magic, part of the Untheileneise Court's wardings, present since the palace was built. Cala was pleased to see it work, something very few were privileged to witness, certainly almost none who had undertaken the detailed study of it that Cala had. "There is no need," the Archprelate said. "No one will disturb the emperor's vigil." The wards would guard him.

"Then we have time off," Cala said. 

"We should catch up on our sleep. There's a long night ahead." Beshelar had a guardsman's practicality about sleep. 

"Certainly," Cala said agreeably. Instead of heading back to his quarters in the Mazen'theileian, however, he walked alongside his partner. 

"What did you think?" he asked softly, quiet so as not to be heard, not to start gossip. 

"We don't need to think." Beshelar was quelling. 

"You do it anyway. You can't help it, any more than anyone else can."

"Are you going to follow us all the way to our quarters?"

"Let's stop and get drinks before you go to sleep, what do you say?" 

"We'll give you a drink and then you'll go and let us sleep."

As a Lieutenant, Beshelar had private quarters with a small sitting room and a curtained off sleeping cubby. It was decorated more cozily than Cala had expected. He looked around in mild approval. What this room told him about the man he would be spending half his time with for the foreseeable future was better than he had expected from the way Beshelar had conducted himself so far. 

Beshelar half-filled a cup from a decanter on the table and handed it to Cala, who thanked him politely and took a sip. "I do want to know what thou thinkest," Cala said.

"What I think of what, Dachenmaza?"

"Cala, as I told thee. Art my partner, shouldst not stand on ceremony. What thinkest of our charge?"

"I hope he toughens up," Beshelar said. "He seems weak. An emperor must stand up for himself."

"Beshelar. He has done nothing but stand up for himself since he arrived. He stood up to thee about attending the commoner's funeral. He stood up to Chavar and the Archprelate."

"He lets Mer Aisava bully him."

"Mer Aisava is only telling him what he must do, and Edrehasivar knows he must do it." Cala looked sharply at Beshelar. "What of his actions so merit thy disapproval?"

"It is not my place to disapprove, only to guard."

"Not thy place, but thou dost. Can be seen on thy face constantly." Beshelar frowned. Cala smiled at him serenely. "Yes, that expression exactly."

"I suppose it is because he seems not to know what is important and what is not."

"He knows very well what is important. He is emperor. His people are important, and not only that he cares for them, but that they see that he cares for them. He very stubbornly insists upon it, as thou hast seen for thyself."

Beshelar snorted, not seeming convinced at all. "Then it is because he is so ignorant of the court and of proper behavior."

"His behavior is well mannered. As for the court, he knows it not, but he will learn. He learns fast, I think."

"Knowest not manners thyself, maza. Cala."

Cala laughed. "Know them well enough. I won't embarrass thee."

"Dost already." Beshelar smiled to take the sting out of it. "Now away and let me sleep. Soon enough it is time to return to our duties."

Coming off duty after the coronation, Cala did not feel like sleeping. He was sleep deprived for certain, yet he felt energized. It took him almost no time to reach Sehalis's office.

"Come in, Cala," the Adremaza said. "All is well?"

"Yes, Adremaza." Cala pulled a chair up to the fire that warmed the Adremaza's office. He rubbed his hands together to thaw them from the chill they had taken up in the cold walk from the guard officer's quarters to the Mazen'theileian. "It goes well. We have a new Emperor as of last night. I like him, Sehalis."

"And, it seems, he likes you. Perhaps too well."

Cala's smile fell away. There was something ominous in the Adremaza's tone. "Edrehasivar has done nothing untoward, Adremaza."

"He has shown you and Lieutenant Beshelar a great deal of favor. There is gossip all through the court."

"He knows no one else. I am sure you have nothing to worry about, this temporary situation is bound to resolve itself as courtiers make friends with him. They are quite ready to encroach, so Mer Aisava keeps saying while reading the correspondence."

"Cala Athmaza. As you are there to protect him, with your life, should he view you as a friend, should he be sentimental about you, he may not react exactly as necessary if your life is endangered in his protection. Being your friend puts his life at risk, and your honor thereby. You cannot allow him to consider you a friend."

Cala folded his arms in silent protest.

"You chose this duty," the Adremaza reminded him.

"I did choose it. I said nothing about being unfriendly."

"Do as thou wilt. Think on it, please. Thou wilt see the sense of what I have told thee."

"But," Cala said, then stopped. He sighed. "Very well. We will do as you ask, Adremaza."

"We appreciate it." The Adremaza smiled at Cala. "We thank you for your service."

"We still choose it," Cala said staunchly.

"We rely on that." Sehalis paused. It had seemed as if he was ending the conversation, and then thought of something he wanted to add. "How fare the Second Nohecharei?"

"We see little of them, as it happens," Cala said, surprised at the question.

"True, yes, we should have thought," the Adremaza said. "Go, then. No doubt you are tired."

And, Cala found, he was.

Csevet had already been there when Cala, woken in the middle of the night, reached the Alcethmeret and the Emperor's bedchamber to find Telimezh held fast in enchanted sleep. It was impossible, Cala thought blankly. The wards --

He sagged under the weight of realization. It had to have been Dazhis who cast this spell. A nohecharis armed with the ward's key, able to cast any magic he wished under its auspices. Worse than Hashevis had had to face; at least that had not been his fellow who killed him. 

He might be going to die but he would see this travesty avenged first. Cala had never thought himself capable of the kind of anger he felt right now. He would have expected himself to be sad, and he knew he was, but sorrow was distant; anger was right there.

Drawing deep breaths to steady himself before unlocking the wards, he carefully cast a maz of wakening and disenchantment on the sleeping guardsman. Telimezh woke blearily and in confusion. "Remain here and keep the Emperor's apartments safe," Cala told him, voice rough, words catching in his throat. "We will be back as soon as we may."

He returned to the outer room where Beshelar was in the process of organizing a dozen guards to make their way to the Princess's apartments, where Csevet had convinced them they were likeliest to find the missing Edrehasivar and nohecharis, as well as perhaps any co-conspirators in the Emperor's abduction.

Following the guards down to the rooms, seeing Edrehasivar in his nightgown standing in the midst of his family and enemies, Cala had felt an echo of his fear for Vimer. He had done all he could and failed, again, was his first thought.

But the Emperor still lived -- Cala had not yet failed in an irredeemable way. He had another chance, and he would do better. No maza would betray Edrehasivar again. 

In this cause he had undertaken to convince the Adremaza and Kiru Athmaza that she was the best choice to replace Dazhis. An unthinkable choice to them both, but Cala had arguments for them both: since Edrehasivar was truly in danger, Kiru, with her medical training, was best suited. He was able to convince Kiru that yes, Edrehasivar might be perfectly happy to accept her service, and the Adremaza that Kiru ought to be at least presented as the Athmaz'are's first choice, especially since no one else eligible wished to serve.

Once she was accepted, he felt, as he might have if there had been a girl in that class with Vimer, that those who were exceptions might support one another, might help one another see past tradition into possibility.


End file.
